


Untitled

by tardiscrashing



Category: Star Trek RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:35:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardiscrashing/pseuds/tardiscrashing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris finds himself unironically trapped in his hall closet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

It was a warm Saturday morning in L.A., and Chris was making the most of his time off by doing absolutely nothing. They had only been back from the press tour for a few weeks, and he wasn't at all ready to dive into another project yet. He hadn't seen much of the gang since they got back either. Though they had just spent months with each other, maybe they could use a break.

His phone rang. He felt somewhat embarassed, hearing his ringtone of Goldfrapp's "Oo La La". A joke Zoe decided to play. He wasn't going to admit he liked it.

Zach's name came up on the caller ID. 

"Hey Z!" Chris answered with a smile in his voice. 

"Hey. So...I know we just saw each other like...yesterday. But, I'm bored. I have no plans today, nothing to do, and I could sit in my apartment and be all zen and shit, but I think I would rather see you."

"Why Zachary, I'm flattered." Chris said teasingly.

"So, what do you say, lunch in like 4 hours? Meet at the deli near your place?"

"Sounds great. I'll be there."

"Perfect, see you then."

Their conversation ended and Chris laid his phone down on the counter, smiling happily as he glanced around his empty apartment. He then looked down at himself. Barefoot, old pajama bottoms with holes in various places, a ratty old tank top barely hanging on to his shoulders, his face looked like death. 

"Damn, it'll take me the whole time to get cleaned up and get the place looking decent." He groaned, "Well...better get started." 

Chris walked to his bathroom and turned the shower on to let the water warm up, then left to go to his hall closet where he kept his towels. 

He hated the hall closet. He really did. It was small, the shelves were too high, and lately the door had been sticking. Chris eyed it suspiciously as he walked in.

"Yellow towel..yellow towel....I want the yellow towel." Chris scanned the shelves, then finally spied it atop the highest shelf. Of course. It was pushed toward the back, inches out of his reach. Testing the lowest shelf to see if it would hold his weight, it felt secure and he hopped up in order to grab the towel. His other foot knocked the door, and while Chris had his back turned the door slowly edged shut.

Chris heard the click as the lock slid into place.

"Damn it!"

He jumped down from the shelf, and grabbed the doorknob, turning and pushing. Nothing happened. He tried again, turning the doorknob, and pushing hard with his shoulder. The door remained closed. His eyes went wide.

"No, no, no, no, no!" He shook the doorknob, shaking the door and pushing again. "No! Open! Open! Please open!" 

It wouldn't budge. 

Chris decided to try a different tactic, and he tried to shake it from the other side, and maybe loosen the hinges. He even kicked at the bottom, thinking he could snap it loose. It was a well-built door, it barely gave an inch, and Chris remained trapped in the dimly lit closet.   
He tried not to think about it. Not think about how small the room was, or how close the walls were. He kept pushing on the door, again, and again, banging and pushing and turning the door knob over and over, while inside he was starting to panic, his breathing quickened.

"Open! Please open! Fuck!" 

His hands suddenly flew down to his pockets, and he felt for his cell phone. Call Zach, Zach would come.

But Chris found his pocket empty and suddenly he remember leaving his phone on the kitchen counter. He was staring to wear himself out, and he pushed feebley on the door once again. "Door...open." 

Finding it would not, Chris sunk down to the floor, sitting with his knees against his chest, alone, in the dark. 

~~~**~~~

Zach paced back and forth in front of the deli, looking at his watch every few seconds. It wasn't like Chris to be late. Zach had already tried his phone twice and gotten no answer. His head was beginning to fill up with all sorts of awful scenarios. He tried Chris' phone one more time, knawing his finger in anticipation as it rang.

At his apartment, Chris looked up meagerly at the sound of his phone. "Zach." He said outloud, as if he hoped Zach would somehow hear him. He had been in the closet for four hours now. His arms were sore of trying to shove the door open, his face was streaked with tear stains when he cried from the frustration and his fear. He tried to bury his face in his arms and imagine he wasn't stuck in his fucking hall closet. 

Back at the deli, Zach hung up after the eighth ring, and decided to go over to Chris and make sure everything was okay.

~~~**~~~  
Zach continued calling Chris' phone over and over as he neared his apartment, and Chris had shut off the hopeless sound of the ringing phone and stayed silent. Not even looking up. Soon, Zach found himself standing at Chris' front door. "Chris?" he pounded on the door three times. 

"Chris! It's me! Are you in there?" 

He still received no answer, and leaned against the door to see if he could hear any signs of life. Faintly, in the background, he could make out the sound of running water. "Chris!" Now Zach could hear something, now he was worried. He suddenly remembered he had a key to Chris' place for emergencies, and began fishing around in his pockets for it. After dumping nearly everything out of his bag, (god he was like a woman sometimes), he finally found the key and turned it in the lock.

Enterting the apartment, Zach stayed quiet, afraid the place had been robbed or something. But everything looked okay. "Chris? Are you here?" He called again.

This time Chris perked up, realizing the voice was coming from inside his apartment. 

Zach stepped into the bathroom and shut off the shower, looking around like he felt someone was going to jump out and attack him at any moment. He started to call Chris phone again, when he noticed the phone laying on the countertop. Zach knew Chris wouldn't leave his phone.

"Chris?"

"Zach?"

Zach whirled around, not expecting to hear a reply. He listened again.

"Chris?"

Chris pounded on the door, "I'm in here." 

Zach followed the sound and went to the closet door, "Chris?"

"Zach, the door is stuck. Please get me out, please." 

Zach pulled on the doorknob, and found that it was indeed very stuck. "Chris, you push from your side and I'll pull from mine."

"Dude! I've been trying! It won't budge."

"Naw, it just needs a little more leverage, Come on, just try." 

Chris stood up slowly, his legs and back sore from being on the floor for so long. He gently placed his hands on the door. 

"Count of three. Ok? One....two.....three!!!"

Zach yanked hard on the doorknob, and Chris pushed as hard as he could. It seemed to move a little. "Do it again! Push harder!"

So once more, Zach and Chris put their strength together to move the stubborn wooden door than had trapped Chris. Chris gave the door one more good kick near the bottom, and it flew open. Zach stumbled back as the free swinging door knocked him off balance, and Chris stood against the wall away from it. 

Chris stepped out, and Zach looked over at him, noticing his face was red.

"Christopher...had you been crying?"

"Um...I guess...yeah..a little. But Zach I was in there for four hours and I was getting claustrophobic and I didn't know if you would come to look for me and...and..."

"Ok, ok. It's okay, just slow down." Zach took Chris' hands. "You are okay now, right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry I freaked out on you. Just got a bit weird in there." Chris said. "Thanks for being my uh....knight in striped armor I guess." Chris smiled bashfully.

"Anytime Princess..." Zach threw an arm around his shoulders and softly kissed his cheek, "Anytime."


End file.
